


In which Karkat continues to make a mess of Kankri

by chaoticprocrastinator (order_of_chaos)



Series: Release-verse [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: BDSM, Dirty Talk, Humiliation, M/M, Possessiveness, let it be known that this is made of porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-12-08 06:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/758158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/order_of_chaos/pseuds/chaoticprocrastinator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat speaks, and Kankri obeys.  See tags and title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In which Karkat continues to make a mess of Kankri

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time, Lactoria said a thing, and the thing was this: 
> 
>    
>  _but can we talk more about karkat strapping a dildo on kankri’s face to keep him quiet and then fucking himself on his face. vow remains intact, karkat gets off. happy ending._
> 
>    
> For some reason I was inspired to write, not that, but what happened directly _after_ that.

Karkat pulls himself off with a grunt of satisfaction and looks Kankri over. The dildo still juts obscenely from his mouth, and that's _Karkat's_ genetic material spattered and smeared and dripping all over Kankri's face - and oh, he likes the look of that, proof that Kankri is _his_ , let's see him try to deny it now - and Kankri's cheeks are burning bright, bright red under the grey of his skin. Exertion? Humiliation? Arousal? Karkat reaches out to touch, and Kankri _whines_ and - 

All three, Karkat decides. He grins viciously, cat to conquered mouse, and feels Kankri shake under his hand. _So_ beautiful like this. Perfect. Karkat doesn't know if it's pity or hatred that moves him to pull away, but he does - leans back against the wall and makes himself comfortable. Catches Kankri's white eyes with his own.

"Last chance to back out before I have you fuck yourself on your fingers for my entertainment. Shake your head once for 'please, Karkat, let me go'."

Kankri's eyes go wide, picture-perfect scandalised, the flush that had begun to fade from his cheeks returning full force. Karkat gives him a moment, silently delighted as Kankri holds his head very, very still. Then, mock impatiently - 

"Well, go on. Unless touching yourself is against that vow of yours, in which case you deserve the eternity of mockery I will subject you to. No? Pants first, they're blocking my view."

Of course pants first; they're all Kankri's wearing, apart from the bulge-gag - and Karkat's hardly willing to allow him to remove that any time soon, fun as it might be to hear Kankri begging. Later, he promises himself. Now is for watching Kankri squirm free of his pants and wrap a hand around his bulge the moment they're off, clearly desperate. Now is for -

"Did I tell you you could touch that? No, no I did not. Fingers. Nook. Now."

\- making Kankri Vantas suffer. Shake and shudder and spread his legs wide at his command, fingers inside himself up to the knuckles, two from each hand so he can tug himself open, on display. Shamelessly, he would have thought, only Karkat knows shame, knows how sometimes it turns inside-out and burns and makes everything better and worse and unbearable. Kankri's expression screams of shame, screams of _liking_ it.

"Think you can come like this, Kankri? Come without even a hand on your bulge, with your nook stuffed full of fingers?"

Kankri moans behind his gag; tries to push his fingers deeper into himself; fails. Desperation is a good look on him. It's lovely. Karkat loves it.

"You know what? I don't care if you think you can or not. You're going to. I'd offer you a bucket, but I'd rather see you come all over yourself. Fall apart for me, Kankri. Do it."

Kankri does. 

His eyes slam shut and he shakes and shakes and spills himself over his hands.

And who needs breathing when they have Kankri Vantas breaking at their command, anyway? There's red everywhere and even if it's Kankri's this time, that's Karkat's colour. It's Karkat's, and Kankri is covered in it. Something inside Karkat growls contentment.

_Mine._

Reminding himself of practicalities, he pushes off from the wall and crawls over to his exhaustion-limp ancestor to unbuckle the bulge-gag. Kankri's eyes are open a crack, enough to indicate consciousness, but even with his mouth free, he doesn't speak.

"You're a disaster," Karkat tells him. Then, quietly, "that was beautiful."

Kankri's expression says he's been told that about as often as Karkat has.

"Yes, I meant it. Whatever. Sleep now. Clean up later."


End file.
